Tag Archives: New York

The Grand Canyon of the Adirondaks.


Some of the best places we find are by accident, and had the weather been  warmer than a Dick Cheney embrace  more conducive to strolling…. we would have taken full advantage of this gem we stumbled upon.




At first we thought it was just a cool bridge….




With some interesting stone work…




Which it was.




But as we got out of the car and walked around….




We realized the bridge spanned a massive chasm.




And it was actually a park you could explore…. with winding trails and breathtaking views.




Had it not been  cold enough to freeze my genitals shut  a bit brisk to walk around, that’s exactly what we would have done.




(5 points if you know the difference between a cavern and a chasm without looking it up.)




I’m not sure if you can tell, but in this next picture?




That batch of white stuff on the right hand side is ice, clinging to the trees and rocks from the spray.



I believe my husband might have said that once or twice.




So yes, Ausable Chasm is on our list of  “return to when  our genitals are not in danger  the weather warms up”  places.




But here’s a little taste of the vertigo inducing water hole to hold you until then-



Day 3 and we cross into New York.


The third day of the Berkshire vacation dawned dreary and wet, so we slept in and got a late start.




We’d decided to drive over to New York State to tour Olana, a castle of the Hudson River Valley. The ride was wet and uneventful, full of the classic  “blurry, taken through the window, my husband was driving 85 mph”  photographs.




Those are cows, in case you were wondering.

As we neared the destination I figured I would look it up on my phone and get a little background….. which I should have done before we left because apparently you have to book a tour in advance and they were full for the entire week we’d be in the area.


I love me a good castle.




It was a little drier in New York… and here’s a photo of a fence.




Which would have been a photo of a glorious farm if the husband wasn’t Mario Andretti. I have scores of  that was supposed to be  “insert fabulous subject matter here”   photos.

You can always tell where I’ve been by the great photos I’ve missed.





So we drove aimlessly through gorgeous farm country and scenic mountain valleys. Shame you won’t see any of it here.

And before the food police hit their sirens….




We stopped at a main street diner in some podunk town I don’t remember the name of and had lunch.




Grilled chicken salad melt for me, hot turkey sandwich for the husband. Okay?



The town next to the podunk diner town happened to be Kinderhook,  (children’s corner in Dutch)  the home of the 8th President of the United States, Martin Van Buren… so we said why not? And took another tour.

We’re nothing if not boring.




We got our tickets and it started to rain, naturally.




So we sprinted soggily down the lane towards the house, Lindenwald.




There’s the husband huddled on the porch waiting for the Park Ranger. Doesn’t he look thrilled?




We were the first ones there and had to wait 20 minutes for the rest of the group to show up. How fun!




Upon entry? Dark.

As a friggin’ tomb. They keep the shades drawn to block the sunlight that will fade the furniture and wall paper and won’t let you use a flash to take pictures. Yay!




After much cajoling and since there was absolutely no sun, I managed a few brighter shots.




The presence of the portable fan kind of killed the aesthetic, but at least I could see it.




I can’t say I knew much about good ole Martin, or that I ever really wanted to…. but there was a lot of interesting American government history related by the ranger. Enough to know these good and simple men of yesteryear would be spinning in their graves at what’s going in Washington today.




Even during his years in the White House, Van Buren listed his occupation as “farmer” on his taxes. That speaks volumes.




The home wasn’t grand, and housed multiple generations of his children and grandchildren. This tower of stairs as seen from the second floor, lead to nowhere… but you know the grands probably loved racing up and down them daily.




Since the house wasn’t large enough to accommodate a banquet hall, Martin ordered and stuck his long dining table right in the front hall for state suppers with dignitaries.




An entry in his journal from later years spoke of a meal he had with Abraham Lincoln. Apparently he laughed so hard at the young Lincoln’s jokes, his ribs hurt the next day.

Nice to know Abe wasn’t always so somber.